


Retinentia

by CCNSurvivor



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hecate and Julie friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14289495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCNSurvivor/pseuds/CCNSurvivor
Summary: INDEFINITE HIATUS!!!!!!!!When Cackle's is frozen, Hecate sacrifices her magic to protect the school, the teachers and the girls. She also loses all memory of who she was. Ada, looking to shield her, decides it is for the best if her memories are not returned to her yet. Helping Hecate along the road of recovery is Julie Hubble, grateful for how Hecate protected Mildred. But for Pippa who has only recently begun to rekindle her relationship with Hecate, Ada's decision is not one she can tolerate easily.





	1. The Cottage by the Sea

Prologue:

 

“And here we are! Your new home!”

The cottage lay nestled safely in the green hills of the countryside they had been driving through for the past hour. She could hear the gravel crunch underneath the tyres of the car and reluctantly glanced up from the watch that was strapped around her wrist. The woman, her… _nurse_ , Julie Hubble – she could feel her face break into an impatient frown – was turning to her with an encouraging smile. She didn’t like that smile, nor did she enjoy the way her blue eyes shone much too brightly. They only served as a reminder of that which was lost in the dark. Her memories, her identity. Nothing left to grasp beyond the name of Hecate Hardbroom, and what an odd name that was!

“How…pleasant.”

Julie Hubble’s eyes softened further, became orbs of molten sympathy that made her quickly glance away again. She couldn’t bear it, this pity, this concern. It was like an answer to a question she had not asked. So instead she studied the little cottage with its thatched roof and wood-clad windows, with its flower pots and slightly crooked front door. And she tried to connect to it somehow which was hard because since the accident she had encountered nothing but emptiness. Everything felt strange or foreign…or entirely puzzling like that feeling of loss she could not shake, that throbbed and ached like a phantom limb.

“I’m sure it’s even nicer on the inside,” Julie insisted, irritatingly optimistic. “Let’s go and take a look.”

Together, they abandoned the vehicle and stepped outside into the air. Despite the sunshine, it was surprisingly cool and as Hecate wrapped her arms around herself to contain the shivers, she thought to hear the crashing of waves.

“We’re…near the sea?”

“Yes, just a short drive away. Lovely, isn't it? Can you smell that salt?”

Her brows drew together as she watched Julie approach the door, her face hidden from view behind a curtain of messy curls. She was searching through her bag, undoubtedly for the set of keys that would grant them access to the cottage, but always came up empty handed.

“Can I help you?” Hecate hesitantly stepped closer and unfurled her arms, only to have the heavy bag thrust into them a second later. The impact knocked the air out of her lungs and the many lumps and dents of the offending object were sure to leave some bruises.

“I know…they’re in here…somewhere,” Julie pushed out through gritted teeth, unearthing tissues and band-aids and half-opened packets of mints. Hecate knew it was impolite to think so, but she just couldn’t see how someone so disorganised could possibly have been hired to look after her.

Finally, there was a tinkling sound that promised success and with a triumphant “Aha!” Julie pulled the keys from the depth of her bag.

The inside of the cottage smelled musty and the wooden floor eerily echoed their steps.

“So we have a lovely kitchen down here, a sitting room and-“ she paused to pry open a creaking wooden door “ah yes, a loo. And then upstairs we’ll have…” She trailed off mid-sentence, looped her arm around the bannister and charged up the stairs with a kind of energy Hecate could only marvel at. In fact, she often wondered why her legs felt so tired and weary, almost as if they weren’t accustomed to carrying her. Slowly, she, too, ascended to the top floor which had such sloped ceilings she was forced to stoop over as she walked. The floorboards continued to groan under her feet and she followed the grain of the wood with her eyes until they landed on a pair of sneakers. “Two sunny bedrooms and a lovely big bathroom.”

Julie sounded breathless now, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she talked. Hecate wondered if she ever felt exhausted.

“Why don’t you pick one, Miss Hardbroom? Get settled and all that while I nip out and grab us some groceries.”

She could feel herself nod while her hands came together above her abdomen, seeking to collect… Something that wasn’t there. Pain seared through her chest and left her winded. Tears prickled at her eyes and Julie Hubble was watching her with growing concern.

“Miss Hardbroom? Is everything alright?”

Shreds of words teased her tongue but nothing concrete emerged. And it was terrifying, this state of mute isolation with no means to explain that which was happening inside her. She could feel darkness tingling just behind her lids, her vision blurring gradually as she was beginning to feel faint.

“Yes…fine…” she answered eventually. “I’ll just need to…”

Feebly, she pointed at the bathroom and started towards it without awaiting further comments. She only just managed to close the door behind her and grip on to the sink before the ground started to tilt underneath her. An icy cold was beginning to gnaw her inside out, stiffening her joints, sending a swirl of snowflakes dancing through her chest. Every breath frozen and sharp like daggers in her throat.

_“It’s called PTSD. It’s a stress response to the trauma you’ve suffered.”_

Julie Hubble had an answer for everything. Then how come that she still wasn’t convinced she was telling the truth?

“Miss Hardbroom? Are you sure you’re alright?”

There she was again now. On the other side of the door. Nervous hands fumbling with the handle. Hecate couldn’t remember turning the lock but somehow the door remained shut anyhow.

“Yes, thank you!” She forced her voice to cooperate. “Feel free to leave.”

A beat, two beats passed between them, then Julie walked away. Hecate kept her eyes shut and listened until her footsteps had subsided, until the door downstairs fell closed and the engine of the car revved up outside. Only then did she look into the mirror where hazel eyes met hazel eyes.

“ _Who are you?_ ” she thought to herself.

Exhaustion stood written on her face but other than that there were no answers. She could not connect to this woman in the mirror, the one in the white blouse whose hair was pulled back into a ponytail. But she felt it in her core that something wasn’t right. That this…this person she was looking at couldn’t possibly be her. That something was drastically altered or amiss.

Hecate stayed in the bathroom until Julie returned, stayed until her legs threatened to buckle underneath her weight. She waited until Julie called her for dinner, then splashed her face with water and descended downstairs once more.

There wasn’t much to speak about, but that didn’t stop Julie from trying. In the few days of consciousness she’d had, Hecate had quickly learned that Julie could, in fact, chew anyone's ears off. Undeterred by icy silence or rude dismissals.

As she watched her now across the table, Hecate felt a kind of fondness swelling up inside her. Because it took some strength and confidence to be so relentlessly patient and giving.

“Not a fan of Shephard’s pie then, eh? Well, never mind. We’ll find something better tomorrow.”

Hecate’s eyes drifted down to the dish in front of her, to the bits of mashed potato she had picked off with her fork and the mixture of mince and gravy that bubbled beyond. It smelled delicious, but she couldn’t remember tasting any of it.

“No, I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere.”

Julie leaned back in her chair and regarded her warmly. “No harm done.” She waited in silence while Hecate slowly began to eat – something that must have cost her considerable effort – and only picked up the conversation again when half the dish was empty. “I know this is less than ideal, Miss Hardbroom. As a matter of fact, I don’t think I can begin to imagine what it must be like for you. But why don’t we try to make the best out of a tough situation? Work together. I know you’re capable of looking after yourself in the general sense.” Hecate looked up at her, her eyebrows arching in puzzlement. “Washing yourself, dressing yourself and so on,” Julie briefly elaborated, “but there will be things that will…feel…confusing to you. Like cooking or…” It was odd how she scrambled around for words nervously all of a sudden. “Well, you know whatever else we’ll come across. So just consider me a housemate, yeah? Or a friend that’s come by for a brief stay. I’m just here to help when you need it.”

Her stomach felt too warm, too full and uncomfortable. As though she was trying to digest something she wasn’t meant to.

Her eyes continued to cling to Julie’s but all she could find was that she was earnestly trying. Almost trying too hard. But why?

Her thoughts felt sluggish, like a knot she couldn’t untangle and a yawn slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

“Oh dear, I’ve put you right to sleep,” Julie chuckled while rising from the table. She was collecting plates, dishes and cups and storing them away in a…sort of…cabinet…that… She couldn’t make sense of it, felt her vision growing blurry once more. “Why don’t you go up to your room and rest? It’s been a long day.”

Hecate nodded numbly and staggered up the stairs. The room to her left that overlooked the drive was the closest and so she stumbled in, throwing the door shut behind her. Her hands were trembling uncontrollably and the heat was battling the ice inside her. It felt as though she was no longer in control of her own body, was at its mercy as it throbbed and ached and burned. Weary tears sprang to her eyes as she folded in on herself on the bed, but they did not fall. Clung stubbornly to her lashes instead until blackness consumed her entirely.

* * *

 

Hecate couldn’t say how late it was when she awoke again, though the steady ticking of her wrist-watch reminded her that time had continued to pass by. Everything around her was cloaked in darkness, and although she couldn’t see, everything around her felt foreign too. Even the air she breathed was not familiar.

“I really am sorry, Miss Pentangle. I’m not your enemy and I don’t like standing in your way but Miss Cackle gave very specific instructions.”

She remembered now what had drawn her from slumber. Indistinct voices drifting to her from afar.

With a tired sigh she pushed herself up and glanced out of the window where, bathed in the light of a lamp, two figures stood talking in the drive. Julie’s head of curls was instantly recognisable to her, as were her wrinkled clothes and blue sneakers. The other woman, however, the one in the pink dress, with blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail, the one whose brown eyes shone with something unidentifiable was utterly unknown to her.

“Miss Cackle is undoubtedly doing what she believes to be the right thing, and I am grateful for your help, Miss Hubble, I truly am. But surely I could offer _some_ support?”

Hecate frowned and pressed her face closer to the window. The desperation in the woman’s voice stirred something up inside her, something that resonated with yearning and want. For a second she thought she must have known her intimately, but the notion was so ludicrous that she swiftly brushed it aside. Someone like her, someone who looked so…so… - she swallowed, couldn’t quite find the words to express the dull ache in her chest-  couldn’t possibly have been associated with her.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Pentangle,” Julie was saying again, “I can’t let you in. I know you’re worried, but we can’t risk jarring her memory prematurely. Just think about everything she might suddenly remember!”

The woman called Miss Pentangle balled her fists and then unclenched them again.

“Has she recognised _you_?” she finally asked and Hecate thought it sounded like a challenge.

“No...”

“Then odds are she won’t recognise me either.”

A tremor passed through the air around her, almost like an energy that grazed her skin, weaved through her fingers. Hecate could not say what it was but knew instinctively that it yearned for a response. It was searching for something. A twin? An equal? She could feel it tugging and pulling until finally her gaze drifted back outside where it was met by Miss Pentangle’s eyes. Steady and determined. She may have been smiling or crying. Oddly, it felt all the same.

But there was a conviction there that stole her breath, that ignited something like hope in the pit of her stomach.

“Please accept my apologies once more, Miss Hubble. I should not have dropped in on you so late…I just…” Her eyes lingered, fearing to let go of her face. “I needed to see her.” Hecate watched on as she moved the back of her hand against her forehead in a strange gesture. “I won’t let this go. Not after everything that’s happened.”

Julie’s answer was swallowed up by the night as Miss Pentangle turned and disappeared down the empty street from which she must have come. It is odd, Hecate thought a little while later, that she arrived without a car. It is odder still how she melted into the darkness, almost as if she vanished altogether.


	2. Pippa Pentangle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After overhearing the conversation the previous night, Hecate insists on seeing Pippa again.

  
Her dreams were rather peculiar that night, filled with skidding cars that only narrowly avoided her, with swirling mist and towering castles. Occasionally there was a presence, something face – and figureless that brushed against her, warm and bright. A calming force in midst of the confusion. She yearned for it when she awoke, back in that little cottage where everything was strange and unfamiliar.

Hecate curled her toes against the soft sheets and remained lying there, trying to fill out her body, but as the warming presence faded so did any sense of herself. The sun was flooding in from the window behind her but all she could see was the shadow the light threw against the walls.

From downstairs a mixture of sounds were drifting to her. Sizzling of fat and above it Julie’s voice as she sang along to some music. It was odd, Hecate thought, that something so ordinary would make her feel so funny inside. Young and uncomfortable and much too small for her body. There was a sadness caressing the edges of her heart, a kind of yearning for something she’d not been granted before. Something as sweet and simple as a mother making breakfast, a happy tune on her lips.

Hecate shook her head and tumbled out of bed, finding a suitcase, her suitcase outside the door on the way to the bathroom. Turning on her heel, she dragged it after her and then lifted it up onto her bed. Her arms protested angrily as though trying to remind her that they weren’t accustomed to carrying such weights.

The previous day had passed her by in such a blur that she hadn’t given the suitcase much thought, hadn’t even heard Julie position it in front of her door. Sharp nails painted in black dragged back the zipper and revealed an assortment of items which she blankly acknowledged. Trousers and skirts, blouses, T-shirts and jumpers. One dress, black as well. Shoes, some with high heels, some without. There was nothing personal about them, nothing that sparked in her a sense of recollection, of connection. They were merely possessions which might as well have belonged to someone else. She hung them up one by one, then cast her eye back in search of something else, something meaningful. But the suitcase had nothing more to offer.

So she washed and dressed - the same jeans but a fresh, red button-down shirt-  and then joined Julie in the kitchen. The air was rich with the smell of bacon and sausages and to her surprise, she could hear her belly rumble noisily in response.

“Looks like someone woke up with an appetite, eh?” Julie chuckled, as cheerful as the day before.

Almost as if the scene in the drive hadn’t happened. But Hecate remembered it all too well, knew what she had seen and felt. Her forehead creased into a frown.

“I know you,” she stated slowly, watched as Julie turned towards her, an amused smile slowly waning on her face.

For a moment it looked like she might question her or make a light-hearted joke, but no such comment made its way past her lips.

“You do,” she acknowledged instead.

Hecate watched as she lifted pans from the stove and heaped delicious food onto two plates. She set them down on the table, turned to the device on the counter and turned a dial which made the music subside and then reached for two mugs which she transported to the table also.

“Sit, sit,” she encouraged her with a smile, “I can eat and talk at the same time.”

Hecate followed her instructions but examined her all the while, from her expressive eyebrows, to her soft eyes that contained something like an apology, or maybe rather something like defiance, to her lips whose corners were seemingly always quirked upwards. She couldn’t make sense of it, this weird mixture of emotion she felt whenever she looked at her. As though she ought to be irritated but found herself rather fond of her instead.

“You were my daughter’s teacher. You were one of the first faces I got to meet at her school,” Julie explained while her hands were busy cutting up her sausage.

Many more questions sprang to mind like branches on a tree that were ever-growing, developing a life of their own. “Then why are you here?”

“Why?” Julie chuckled at that, meeting her eyes again while guiding a generous portion of food to her mouth. “Because I’m a nurse.”

“I couldn’t be certain of that, could I? Not after you lied-“

“Technically I didn’t lie,” Julie cut her off. She was still smiling and Hecate watched on as she continued to explain, waving her fork through the air. “I did not see how our previous acquaintance would have made a difference. You’re meant to recover your memory by yourself. Otherwise it might all be too jarring for you.”

“You said that last night too.” Hecate frowned, could feel her skull reverberate with pressure and questions.

“And I meant it.” Julie shrugged, but failed to hide the curiosity in her gaze. “Though I can see why you wouldn’t trust me, Miss Hardbroom.”

“Miss Hardbroom,” Hecate repeated to herself, “is that what your daughter called me?”

She struggled to envisage herself as a teacher, surrounded by children and chaos. She struggled to envisage herself creating order when raising her voice alone seemed unbearable at times. Because there had been moments, since the accident, since her memory loss, that she had wanted to scream but found herself voiceless instead.

“Yeah. That or HB and probably some other names when you weren’t around.” The humour in her eyes softened the blow and Hecate almost felt her own lips twitch upward.

“And Miss Cackle is?” she remembered to ask at last. She still hadn’t touched her food which continued to smell rather invitingly. Seeking to muffle another desperate stomach-rumble, she reached for the cutlery.

“The headmistress of the school and your emergency contact.”

Hecate was just manoeuvring food to her mouth when she caught Julie glancing away. Her surprise initially masked the explosion of flavour that tickled her taste buds. Because Julie Hubble wasn’t one to avoid eye contact. However little she could remember from their previous acquaintance she felt this much to be true. Julie Hubble shouldered uncomfortable situations and dealt with them head-on. She did not dodge or evade. And as Hecate continued to chew, she could feel her heart sink. Because there was only one explanation for such behaviour. Lies. More lies or half-truths.

Tremoring hands lowered the cutlery once more and pushed away the plate. “Which only leaves Miss Pentangle.”

“I don’t know anything about her.” She must have seen her expression darken, as she hurriedly added, “Honestly! I guess you were friends, and I know she’s been kind to Millie.”

“Millie?”

“My daughter Mildred. But that’s it.”

Millie Hubble. Mildred Hubble. Hecate silently repeated the name to herself, allowed the “r” to roll off her tongue, felt the pressure of the “b’s”. Thought to feel _something_ in the pit of her stomach. Something that stirred and roiled of its own volition. But the sensation vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving ever more questions in its wake.

“I want her to visit. I want Miss Pentangle to visit,” she managed evenly at last. “From what I gathered last night she appeared eager to see me, and I have no reason to believe that her presence would be upsetting.”

But Julie looked less than pleased.

“I have been given instructions that I need to follow. Listen to me,” a chuckle bubbled up despite her seriousness, “I sound just like…well…just like you, actually. Tell you what, I’ll get Miss Pentangle to come by if you have some more food. You look like a right twig already, no need to let people think I’m not feeding you well enough.”

Hecate blinked, her lashes fluttering against her skin. How odd that she would change her mind so quickly. She doubted she’d ever make sense of Julie Hubble. Tentative fingers pulled the plate closer. Still, puzzlement was preferable to knowing she was being lied to.

Hecate continued to eat in silence while Julie turned up the volume on the device, the radio – she was certain she’d known that – allowing music to stream through the kitchen. And she found that somehow the knot in her brain started to ease and unravel. Even found her foot tapping along to the rhythm of the music. It was odd, she thought, being here with Julie Hubble. Because it was like being someone else. Someone she had never met before.

* * *

 

Afternoon saw her abandoning the cottage altogether and setting off towards the beach. Julie had reluctantly given permission to let her go alone provided she carried a mobile phone with her at all times. Miss Pentangle still had not turned up, and Hecate was running out of reasons to explain her impatience.

Even as the sunshine and the salt stung her face, even as the wind whipped through her hair she could not banish images of the blonde-haired woman from her mind. Her peculiar pink cloak, her searching gaze. Her gentle insistence, her careful smile. Playing before her eyes time and time again.

It was ludicrous, Hecate scolded herself, this preoccupation with someone she could not remember. And yet… _and yet_ …

Her hands settled above her abdomen as she walked, her fingers twisting into the fabric of her blouse. She inhaled slowly and deeply until the fresh air filled her lungs.

Being out here by the sea was like experiencing a freedom she’d never had. Why, she did not know, only thought that time would bring answers. To who she’d been, to what she had valued. Breathe out. Breathe in. One foot in front of the other. Gulls were shouting noisily above her, soaring through the sky before plunging into the bottomless water to her left.

And suddenly Miss Pentangle was there. In front of her in the distance. Not clad in pink like the previous night, but in a skirt and blouse ensemble of cream-coloured silk, her hair flowing freely in the wind. Hecate missed a step, almost in unison with her heart that stalled and fluttered fervently against her chest. All at once she felt young and inexperienced, unable to process what was happening to her. No longer in control but entirely at the mercy of her feelings. Which were conflicting and confusing and tantalising all at once.

Thank God there were some things tethering her to safety. Like the sand under her shoes. One step, one more afterwards. Steadily they were approaching one another until nothing but a small gap separated them.

“You came.” How small her voice sounded. But Miss Pentangle smiled, brighter than the sun itself and clasped her hands in her own.

“Of course, Hecate. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

_Hecate_. She rather liked the sound of her name on her lips. It felt natural, almost like Julie’s _Miss_ _Hardbroom_. A small piece of concrete reality.

“You must have been working, I’d imagine,” she offered carefully in return and when Miss Pentangle nodded, added more bravely: “Are you a teacher too?”

“Headmistress of my own school, in fact.”

Hecate allowed her eyes to drift over her frame once more. Her capable hands which were joined over her abdomen in a near perfect mirror image of herself. Her eyes which were patient but searching. She seemed taller than she actually was and Hecate decided that it had to do with her posture, the way she carried herself confidently. Almost as if tenacity and determination lived in her spine. And she knew then and there that Miss Pentangle would have found a way into her life even if she hadn’t overheard the conversation the previous night.

“Why did you want to see me? Yesterday. You were quite insistent.”

Hecate pushed herself into motion again and smiled when Miss Pentangle fell into step with her.

“Because I care about you, Hecate. Because I thought…because I _know_ I can help you with all this.”

That rankled something inside her, prickled like thorns which promised more pain. But she needed to know, needed to understand why everyone treated her as though she’d lost so much. What could it be, Hecate wondered? What could be greater than her memories? She was healthy if also a little weak at times. She could look after herself save for a few exceptions. So why? Why was there such pity and concern? What were they all hiding?

“And what precisely is all this?” she challenged.

Miss Pentangle’s smile twitched nervously on her face. “Your memory loss. Your recovery after the accident. Hecate, what _do_ you remember?”

A stubborn frown creased her forehead. “I’d like you to tell me what _you_ know, Miss Pentangle. Who am I? Who was I?”

Neither of them missed a step, kicking up sand as they continued to walk.

“You were and are a teacher and a friend.” Miss Pentangle paused, moistening her lips. “So please call me Pippa. We met in school and, for a time, we were inseparable. Then we lost touch and only recently rekindled our…our friendship. Slowly.”

Pressure was starting to swell inside her skull again, throbbing and pulsing agonisingly. “There’s more you aren’t telling me.”

“You’re right,” Pippa admitted softly, “but I agree with Miss Hubble and Miss Cackle. There are certain things you must remember for yourself. Besides, there are some things I do not know. Why we lost touch, for example. What happened back then, what motivated you…”

Her voice trailed off, sad but not accusing. Searching, Hecate thought again. And glancing at her profile wondered if perhaps she was just as lost.

“I wasn’t about to lose you a second time, Hiccup.”

Pippa tilted her up proudly towards the horizon, the sun casting her face in orange and amber hues. And as Hecate watched on, observed how her shoulders squared for battle, saw how the wind slipped through her blonde hair something coiled tight with longing inside her. It stole her breath, this thing within that roared with need and want, as though it had been silenced for much too long.

Self-consciously, she dropped her gaze to the sand, watched as their arms swung loosely back and forth at their sides now. Black and pink nails glistening in the light but both the same when cast in shadow. Although…Hecate blinked, nearly missing a step. For a second it had seemed as if the shadow had fluctuated, rippled with energy that united Pippa’s hand with her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- thank you for your kind response to this idea! :) For your kudos and comments! And sorry it's taken me a while to finish  
>  the next chapter  
> \- there's a mixture of things Hecate has forgotten about. Sometimes it's the word for it, like radio. Sometimes she's a little  
>  more ignorant because she's never used them, like mobile phones. She knows of them but she wouldn't know/remember  
>  how to use them. Julie knows this too but at least with a mobile phone she can track her ;)   
> \- since their first moment together in Selection Day I feel like Hecate had some kind of begrudging respect for Julie and that  
>  feeling persists even now. She'll grow to like her even more in future.  
> \- Pippa can't always wear pink, right? And don't worry, their interactions will become more frequent as well.   
> \- please let me know your thoughts? Also if there's anything you'd like to see included just shout :)

**Author's Note:**

> \- so this...happened? I'd like to blame it on this post (http://nervouspearl.tumblr.com/post/172727980254)  
> \- I've wanted to write a begrudging friendship between Julie and Hecate for a while  
> \- Pippa will win her back. Magic or not.  
> \- yes, Hecate was confused by that dishwasher.  
> \- comments and kudos welcome. :) (yes, I used the word "orb" lol)  
> \- Kairos has priority, but I will update this as regularly as I can. :)


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